


Displaced and Forgotten

by Microraptor_Glider



Category: The Flash (Comics), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 31st century, Discrimination, Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Speed Force, Written for a Class, corpratism, double standards, implied racism, militrism, social inequality, the flash museum, the superman museum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:05:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3953488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Microraptor_Glider/pseuds/Microraptor_Glider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two kids go to visit their father's legacy and leave disapointed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Displaced and Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> I had an assignment where I had to make something utopian or distopian, and I had had this universe bouncing around. In this universe, I filled in my blanks about the 31st century dc universe with my own musings because I haven't actually read any comics in that setting and because I had my own ideas I wanted to try out regardless of canon. I also was particularly interested in the tornado twins and their predicament, and had developed the universe around their life. So, with the assignment I took a particular moment in their lives and emphasized certain aspects of the world. Oh, and if you couldn't tell by the tags, I didn't choose the utopia option.
> 
> beta'd by britt1243 on tumblr.

The twins, Don and Dawn, waited for the tutor to be distracted by one of Nicole’s shenanigans before slipping out the door. The wait wasn’t long before she started complaining, and today the twins knew that the tutor wouldn’t note their disappearance. The tutor never paid much attention to them anyways. He didn’t have much reason to.

The dark skinned children and their mother had just appeared in the apartment complex seven years ago after one of Mikael’s trips abroad, one where he visited universities in the outer solar system. Though Mikael had told everyone to treat them well and give them access to the complex’s services, no one knew where they came from. The mother had an accent like she came out of an old documentary, one of the ones that remastered video footage into holograms. At first, she had trouble operating even the most basic of devices, and unable to produce any certificates of education or residence, she had worked as a nanny and maid for the apartment’s residents. She had since proved herself a sharp thinker and resourceful researcher and now earned extra money writing reports for the complex’s residents, but they still referred to her as “their nanny” and “their antique”.

Obviously the children weren’t going to inherit anything. No one could imagine the twins receiving any shares let alone a whole company or a place in Homeworld Defense. And, without a company or a war record, how could they hope to serve in the government or elect a representative in their place? Perhaps public school would have suited them, if there were one close by.

Meanwhile, Nicole’s parents ran a firm that researched and applied genetic therapy. Some of their treatments went to preventing radiation poisoning among robot repair personnel. Most went to Defense and upgrading the army. Both Nicole and her parents knew proper English and Chinese, in their modern forms. Her parents rented out two whole floors of the complex, and attended the Residence Association’s meetings regularly. The Residence Association then ran the building’s affairs and paid the tutor. Nicole was a priority.

But, today Ashley Lowell was leaving for the Earth National Military, and the Lowells were throwing a party. Everyone was either invited or helping prep, and to make matters better Nicole was Ashley’s sister. Though she typically put in the effort to pay attention, today would be especially difficult. 

The twins then paid little thought to the class as they slipped into the stairwell. They glanced at each other and looked around for any potential witnesses. Then, with a spark of lightning and a gust of wind, they took off. Their feet beet against the ground, and the world blurred. Their mother had always warned them not to use their powers in public, but the twins didn’t see the point of it. They had practiced running fast enough that no one could see them. More importantly, they wanted to visit the Flash Museum, and how terrible it would be if they couldn’t get there as fast as possible.

So, they ran a mile down the stairs, out onto the Central City streets, and down a few blocks before they realized they had no idea where they were going. They knew where the museum was: 13578 East Garrick Street. Their mother had helped them find that on the hyperstream before she told them that it would be another three months before she’d have the time or money to take them. Visiting their father’s memorial would have to wait for some other time, but neither Dawn nor Don had wanted to wait. She also warned them that the only site she could find was out of date. Afterwards, they had looked up a map of the city on their own, and had planned out several possible routes.

It’s just that a map of a city is not the same thing as a city, especially when one has few chances to explore it in person.

Dawn pulled over to the edge of a park when she figured this out. She’d tried to stop behind a bush, but a young man wearing the bright greens and blues of the current fashion season still startled at her arrival.

As soon as Don noticed his sister wasn’t beside him Don pulled back to her position. “What was that about?” He knew it was hard to speak while running. Your body ate energy and oxygen so quickly that your lungs fought to keep up, and if you got a moment to speak in between your breaths, the wind would wisp your words fifty feet behind you. However, his sister always had to make things harder then they needed to be. She could have at least poked him and warned him of the stop.

Dawn, of course, rolled her eyes. She opened her mouth and glanced at the man in neons. He was eyeing them cautiously. She took a step towards her brother, nudged him so their backs were turned toward the man, and whispered, “The street signs are at least fifty feet up, so unless you’ve been practicing running up and down walls while I wasn’t watching, we’re going to get lost.” She tilted her head to the side and pressed her lips together emphatically. Her brother could be so dense.

Don looked up.

The street signs would be up there. Nearly all of the hovercar traffic flew that high or higher.

Only if your car was running low on energy did you fly bellow the standard level. Either that or you owned an old model. Even if you’d kept the car of a famous ancestor you’d retrofit it with working anti-gravs, and those cars were mostly collectables, which you’d only take out to show a guest. Don had heard this from William a few years back, when their mother had been cleaning for the Newsteads. Neither he nor Dawn had many chances to ride in a car themselves.

Then again, William also talked about how the onboard navigation systems directed the car for you, and if you wanted control, there was always a navigation system. Who knew if anybody actually looked at the signs?

“I could do it,” Don pouted though he knew he didn’t sound that confident. He narrowed his eyes at his sister. “Are you saying we should go back?” It wasn’t a question but an accusation.

“No.” Dawn almost yelled before containing herself. “I’ve been waiting for this as long as you have. Just…” She rolled her shoulders and shifted her weight. “We have to be careful. Go slower. Make more stops.” 

Don nodded. As much as he didn’t want to admit defeat, a kernel of doubt had emerged. “Sometimes there’s stuff on the sides of buildings. Some people like to walk around. Shoppers.” He pointed a thumb at the brightly colored man, who was now on his comlink with a worried and agitated expression. “That idiot.”

“That’s what I said. Go slower. Make more stops. I wouldn’t want you to miss a helpful sign because you were too focused on the road ahead of you and you only saw it for a millisecond. Now, let’s go, and before you complain, that idiot already saw.”

So, the two took off again working their way helter-skelter through the city streets. They swerved from side to side, hoping to catch a hint of where their next turn would be. Occasionally they saw it. Occasionally one of them would discover they had overshot by a block or two, and then they would have to double back and scan the shops and offices before they found the right place. One time they ended up lost and spent a solid hour darting in various directions and backtracking before they found a name they recognized from their route.

As the twins ran, the city changed. The streets and alleyways narrowed. The cars packed tighter together and flew closer to the ground. The signs and advertisements shifted from soft holograms to harsh LEDs, which glared because the buildings and cars blocked out the sunlight. The twins nearly tripped when they first saw a vehicle drop three feet midflight, but after that they noticed a number of vehicles quivering, halting, and sputtering at odd moments. Even though vehicles had stopped emitting exhaust centuries ago, the air smelled of acid; a fact made acute by the twins’ need to take a hundred deep breaths a second. Glass disappeared from the building’s exteriors. There were no small shops displaying their merchandise but rather departments and warehouses; the office buildings were not places to comfortably oversee a company but rather cement walled prisons. Eventually the buildings became less distinct as the tall structures leaned on each other and stood on each other’s shoulders. Of course with less leisurely traffic, signs became less frequent, and the twins had to slow down further to avoid confusion. They still almost missed the three story building underneath a Buy Low and a ghastly conglomeration of apartments at 13578 East Garrick Street with tarnished metal letters reading ‘The Flash Museum’.

The twins had dreamed about what they would find when they got there, and this wasn’t it. They had envisioned the place from their mother’s stories. Then, it had been in the city’s center with a statues of their father and their cousin out front. Politicians had spoken there, and on its opening night a parade had snaked its way through the city’s streets to a party at the museum’s entrance. The Rogues, a collection of thieves which had tormented their father, had created a hostage situation to make a point and a few hundred bucks, and though their father had chased them off, the villains had returned to the spot again and again. It had been a thousand years since that night. The twins had expected some changes, but they had spent their nights arguing over what wings had been added, not what had been removed.

Even if their mother’s stories weren’t true, and they hadn’t doubted those for a moment, they had expected something similar in the scale to the Superman Museum. That museum covered a whole city block, and contained exhibits on topics ranging from Kryptonian history, Superman’s small town beginnings, his abilities, and most importantly all of the villain’s he’d protected earth from. There you could learn about how General Zod attempted to transform Earth into a new Krypton, Darkseid’s attempts to enslave humanity using the Anti-Life Equation, and when Brainiac shrunk Metropolis. The best part, Superman’s preserved body, wasn’t even in the museum itself but protected behind a force field on the plaza square just across from LuthorCorp Tower. 

At least that was what the advertisements and the other kids in the apartment complex said. Mother couldn’t afford the time off to visit a museum in her own city let alone pay for the inflated hotel and food prices of Metropolis. Mother had also admitted that the museum likely did not contain the whole story and only served to remind people that democracy won’t save you from an alien invasion. And, though she never asked Superman or Louis about his preferred funeral arrangements, she doubted Superman had had preservation in mind.

Their father had worked with Superman and had protected this city as well as Superman had protected his. Their father deserved as much, and though Superman’s museum wasn’t perfect, it was more than this.

And, even if they were a bit biased towards their father, he had left a whole legacy of speedsters in his wake, including their own cousin. The legacy had a whole family of superheroes. Though the supervillain family of speedsters named the Thawnes had exiled the legacy to Jupiter in the 26th century, that family had lost their power along with the legacy when the Speed Force almost disappeared at the end of the 28th. Why would the cities not reclaim their protectors after the supervillain threat had passed?

Don nudged his sister, “What are you waiting for? Let’s go in."

Dawn paused for a moment. They had been hoping for more, but her brother had a point. They would take what they could get, and they ran in together. While it wasn’t as big as they were expecting, there was still so much to see, and the twins had no reason not to make use of their sped up perception.

Though the museum contained some stories about their father that even mother hadn’t told them and a few from after mother and father had left their original time, small disappointments lined the way. Most of the artifacts were replicas, not because the originals existed somewhere else but because they had been broken or stolen along the way. The Cosmic Treadmill was in the building, yet it could barely make it up to human speeds let alone those suitable to speedsters. The display signs were physical rather than holographic and worse either faded or discolored as if someone had carefully painted over the lettering with the wrong shade. Moreover, though the building wasn’t big enough, it also felt too big as if it were hallow and about to collapse in on itself. Perhaps it needed people to fill it up.

Once the twins had a chance to look around the place, they slowed to a stop and wondered into the lobby which contained the only other person in the building. Amy Cho, as a nameplate on her desk read, sat behind a desk, typing very intently.

Dawn decided to walk up and ask the obvious question, “What’s up with this place?” She chaffed at the ground with her foot. “It’s so small. Any one of the Flashes deserves better.”

Amy looked up, and then down at the two children in front of her. She smiled and then gave a small laugh. “Yes, they do.”

“Then, why isn’t his place better?” Don chimed in from behind his sister.

Amy frowned and shrugged. “Funding was cut a few years back. We’re lucky the foundation owns the building because otherwise we’d be struggling to pay rent as well as keeping the city from repurposing the space. As it is we can barely pay for repairs let alone update the exhibits. We’re operating on volunteer power, and the only reason I can be here is that my other job allows me to work from home.” Don was about to open his mouth when Amy continued, “And, no, I don’t know why the funding was cut, but I do have a story."

Dawn groaned. “They’re all stories. What mom tells us is stories. What the tutors tell us is stories. Half of what is here are stories, and we came here to finally see things, objects.”

“Yes,” Amy replied, somehow remaining calm “But, those are stories as well, so hear me out. Nine years ago, a lightning bolt struck the speed temple on Jupiter, and the Flash who had created the Speed Force appeared in its wake. His wife had appeared a few months earlier, and they lived together on Jupiter for some time and even had children there. At some point, however, they disappeared. The Jupiteri claim that they are still out there, and their growing power shows it.” Amy paused for a moment to let the information sink in.

The twins rolled their eyes. They had heard this story, and they knew more than Amy did. Father had been pulled back into the Speed Force, and mother had worked with Mikael to smuggle the twins back to the family’s home of Central City to prevent them from being used as political pawns. Important families used any link to the Justice League to emphasize their legitimacy as defenders of the people, and the children of a member of the League would be gold. Mother reminded them that she knew she was giving up a life and that she would be starting over, but she also claimed that she did not know how far Earth had fallen.

Amy spoke up again, “If the Jupiteri are gaining power, what other speedsters might be gaining power as well?”

Unfortunately, the twins didn’t get long to think about the suggestion with their quick brains before sirens blared outside the museum. Amy looked down at the twins. They were the only ones in the building other than her and thus the only ones the police could be coming for.

“We didn’t do anything,” Don shrugged. The private police of the apartment complex had always been rude to them, but they never tried to arrest them.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dawn realized, “Even when they straighten everything out, they’ll wonder why we came all the way here, and mom will find out we left.”

While both of them were worried about their mother finding out that they had snuck off, Don immediately recognized the warning. They wouldn’t just want to know why they had come to the museum, but how they had made it all the way across the city. He turned to Amy, “Can we hide under the desk for a bit?”

Amy made a skeptical face but gestured downward for the children to hide. The police came in, and the twins heard footsteps approach the desk. “Ma’am, a citizen called in with a report of two metahumans downtown. We’ve traced sightings to this location. Have you seen anything?”

Amy shook her head. “No.”

“Because this is a matter of metahuman security, we authorized to search the building. I hope you aren’t hiding anything. These were reported to come and go as quick as lightning. There is a chance they are Jupiteri spies, and considering this location, it would be highly incriminating to you if they were found here.”

“Oh, please, don’t be dramatic,” a gruffer voice cut in, “Tensions are too high for the Jupiteri to risk it, and everyone knows how dangerous metahumans are regardless. They’re probably just some kids that got into the waste by the factories and woke up with a little more power than they fell asleep with. If they don’t turn to a life of crime, they won’t be able to control their powers and pose a danger to everyone around them.”

The twins heard more footsteps, and before the police had a chance to look under the desk, two gusts of wind left the building.

Over an hour later, the police left, and the twins cautiously entered the building again. They wandered up to the desk and gave their thanks. “You don’t believe metahumans are as bad as they say, do you?” Don asked.

Amy shook her head, “I work in a museum dedicated to a line of metahumans which did good work without state sponsorship, so while I have to recognize the risks, I also understand that there’s great possibility.”

Dawn laughed. “State sponsored ones are also risky. Last year Sam came home from service and nearly blew a hole out the side of the apartment building, but nobody wrote that up on the hyperstream. The cops came by to make sure he was ok.”

Don snorted and poked his sister’s side, “Imagine Ashley drunk.”

Though they still had to make back to the complex before their mother chewed them out, the two agreed that they would be avoiding the party.


End file.
